“You’d be wise to check your pancakes for poison.”
He’s already halfway up the stairs when he glances back at me. He knows I’d never actually poison him, but that doesn’t stop his face from looking worried that I might do something else to mess with him. The wink I give has him turning around with a slight smirk on his face and jogging up the stairs to a waiting Iris.
I watch him leave, and I’m not sure why, but I linger in the doorway a moment longer. It must be nice to have someone who’s always there to look after you, like Bear andIris do for each other. I’ve seen my sister, Lou, and her fiancé, Sam, do the same. Since meeting Sam, my older sister has become more carefree than I’ve ever seen her. I never thought about it before, but I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that she knows someone will always be there to catch her if she falls. That must ease her worry and make taking a leap a lot easier for her.
I feel a slight twinge in my chest, and I rub my hand against it until the ache goes away. Goddamn heartburn.
Chapter Two
KASS
I take another bite of my burger and nod for what feels like the hundredth time since I last spoke. The woman across from me has kind features that initially intrigued me when I came across her profile last week. Since then, we’ve texted a little and agreed to go on this date today. But now that I’m here, I’m not even sure how I could've seen potential in this.
Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice. I just don’t like being talkedatfor an hour. I should have known she’d be super chatty from the way she texted, but I just assumed she was trying to seem enthusiastic about meeting up. It’s so hard to tell over messages what a person is actually like.
Luckily, this is only a lunch date, and I already told her I have to go back to work after this. I won’t have to deal with the awkwardness of one of us wanting to extend the date and the other one saying no. I always feel awful doing that, but I usually have a good excuse lined up.
I check my watch, and I only havefifteen minutes before I have to start walking back to the shop. I snag the waiter’s attention as he walks by, and I ask for the check. As soon as my attention is back on her, she continues her story about how her cat had to have emergency surgery, or something like that.
I observe the way she tosses her blonde curls over her shoulder. The action pulls me into a memory of another gorgeous blonde I knew. One that I still love.
It’s been two years, but I can still hear her laugh ringing in my ears. I can see the way she walked when she was feeling confident. I shudder at the memory of her warm breath on my neck. Her legs wrapped around my waist. I can feel her shaking body in my arms as she sobs. The way she would cling to me, as if her sanity depended solely on my support. We both knew it never did. Daisy could handle herself; she just liked having me around, so she didn’t always have to. And I loved being that for her. I would have been that for her forever if she’d have let me.
My date must notice my attention wandering because she clears her throat to get my attention.
I glance up at her, not even realizing that my gaze had wandered down to my plate. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about work.”
“I guess it’s about that time, isn’t it?” Her eyes dart down to the table between us.
At first, I’m unsure why, until I look down and notice the check between us. I silently reach out and grab it, simultaneously reaching into my back pocket to pull out my wallet.
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you to get lunch, you didn’t have to. What a gentleman.”
“Of course.” It’s all I can come up with to say. I hate thispart of dates. Of course I’m going to pay, but can we stop pretending like she ever expected anything else?
The waiter comes by to take the check, and I take the opportunity when the conversation is paused to rack my brain, trying to remember what we were talking about.
“So, your cat’s okay now?”
“He is. The poor thing has to wear a cone for another week or so, but he’ll be back to normal soon, I’m sure.”
“That’s great.”
She goes on to talk about her cat’s post-op care routine. Even describing the topical gel she has to rub on his stitches so they heal. “It’s probably similar to what you give your clients after they get a tattoo done.”
I choke back a laugh. “Not quite.”
When the waiter brings back the check, I pocket my card and stand to put on my coat. We walk to the front of the restaurant and say our goodbyes before going outside.
“It was really great getting to finally meet you. We should do dinner sometime.”
“I’m really busy with work right now, so I’m not sure how much free time I’ll have in the next few months.” I used to lie and say that I had a great time and that I’d reach out, but I learned that lying and then ghosting can be more painful than a slightly altered truth that gets the same message across.
Her face falls, and I think she understands that was my nice way of saying I’m not interested. “Okay. Well, have a great rest of your day.” She goes in for a hug, and I reciprocate it. “Bye!”
“Bye.”
We walk out the front door and head in opposite directions. Thank god. I got here first and waited for herinside, so I wasn’t sure where she parked her car. I was just praying that we wouldn’t need to share a sidewalk for the next couple of blocks and make small talk to fill the awkward silence.
